Defensive Fucking: Tips for avoiding an embarrassingly specific series of sex injuries

Defensive Fucking: Tips for avoiding an embarrassingly specific series of sex injuries

Love is a Battlefield is an excellent Pat Benetar song from the 80s,  an excellent choice for karaoke, and also a dumb thing people like to say about relationships (framing our romantic adventures in entirely too adversarial a manner, thereby reinforcing a whole heap of evils I could probably spend a whole nother blog post on). However, it ALSO makes for a serviceable segue into our current post, a sort of primer on how not to hurt yourself hilariously while fucking.

Read on to discover how to avoid doing the dumbass shit that I (alas) have done (or had done to me) during sex, that resulted in an unfortunate injury.

Here, in the order I remembered them, is an abridged list of damages inflicted on my body over the years, and some simple steps to avoid sustaining such injuries yourself.

Injury 1: Profuse nose bleed

Scenario:
Let's say an Eggplant you are casual friends with and have maybe been light flirting with all evening, because, I mean, why not, right? utterly misunderstands that when you said "So I'm getting in a cab now" you meant "bye" and not "you should come with me;" and somehow shimmies his way into the back seat on the other side of you, such that you find yourself sitting bitch, much to the confusion of both you and your Uber buddy who had already gotten in before you. Then, as you turn towards him to inquire, "what the fuck" he will waggle his eyebrows at you in a way you will be sure he imagines is seductive, but is, in fact, purely hilarious. Drunk You will consider this sufficient qualification not to kick him out of the cab, but rather to allow him into your lair, and just, I guess, see how it goes. Cause, ya know. Fuck it.

If you do this, perhaps said Drunk Eggplant will, at some point during your smooching manage to so badly misjudge where your face is located that he jabs his forehead directly into the bridge of your nose, provoking an impressively prodigious nose bleed (cause your blood is thin af right now, cause you are also drunk, remember). This will hurt SO MUCH, and put a definitive stop to any sort of get down that was about to get gotten.

Avoidance strategy:  
Do not fuck strange men who are too drunk to realize you aren't actually inviting them home. If your Eggplant is too drunk to read your cues while your clothes are still on, you should expect that when your clothes come off you will receive little more than some calamitous and hamfisted attempt at boning (if you even make it that far). Plus dude might fucking head-butt you. And blood is hella hard to get out of carpet. Just fyi.

Injury 2: Three inch splinter to the upper thigh

 Scenario:
Maybe your first boyfriend in College will have a sweet off campus apartment, that is medium squalid and filled with cast off furniture scavenged from the curb outside the local crack house or god knows where. Maybe included among the insane items furnishing his room will be a luxurious queen sized bed, perched primly on a metal frame, that is ordinary in every way, except its feet are fucking CASTORS. And maybe one time your naïve and inexperienced self will attempt to impress your older, more experienced college boyfriend with a sick sex move you saw in a movie - a regular movie probably, not even a porn (but who remembers!) - by sortof jumping onto him while flinging your hair all hot and smoldery like. You will, of course, miss the mark here somewhat, by launching yourself off of the bed (which will roll away from you mid-fling) and into the wall, down which you will slide, or off of which you will bounce (who remembers!),  dropping your naked ass unceremoniously on the unvarnished wood flooring, and driving a huge fucking splinter into your left thigh. As you squawk in pain and attempt to extract the goddamn 2x4 protruding from your skin, your boyfriend will laugh at you for a full five minutes while making jokes about wood. But you will go ahead and fuck him afterwards anyways, because college. Christ what an ass he was.

Avoidance strategy:
A bed should never be on wheels. This is not fun; it is wrong. Refuse to make contact with such an item until all rolly bits are removed. Also, never attempt to do moves you see in movies or in porn. You are not coordinated. And also that shit is usually not that fun in real life.

Except the blowjob shit. That shit is legit.

Injury 3. Chipped Tooth

Scenario:
You know how sometimes, especially if you are a shorter person who likes to date taller persons, you will get over excited when trying to smooch and like sometimes you click teeth? Cause like, if their mouths are all the way up there sometimes you will kinda pop up on your toes to better reach them when your lips are already kindof close together (or, alternatively, the tall person will like zoom their face down to make contact with the short one's pucker) and the speed and maybe the shock can cause you to get in there with more force than your parted lips can absorb?

You do? Not just me then? Awesome.

So then. Say you are smooching with a person who is generally quite excellent in all boudoir activities, but is perhaps maybe just a little bit more aggressive in nature generally (like, say, he is a Republican who likes to text you shit like "AMERICA #1" when he gets drunk, causing you to seriously question your life choices, in spite of the assiduous, and damn near virtuoso level head he gives).

Say he is...drunk? maybe? (he has had like three beers over 2 hours which doesn't seem enough to do it, but hey, benefit of the doubt) and you are engaging in some v. enjoyable rolling around in bed, when at some point Republican Eggplant will forcefully flip you onto your back (which you are here for!) and abruptly and hungrily attempt to eat your mouth (but like, in a sexy way), but will instead basically divebomb your face, clanging his teeth against yours with such force that it chips your right upper incisor.

As you return to the dentist to get your mug fixed a mere 43 hours after completing your normal 6 month check up without incident, the image of a bald eagle swooping out of the sky to peck a worm (or whatever they eat) out of the ground will occur to you as a perfect metaphor for what has brought you to this time and place, and you will laugh, and your dentist will scold you severely and remind you she has a drill in her hand so you might want to sit still and let her finish, lest you jostle her into further fucking up your face.

Avoidance Strategy:
Do not fuck drunk Republicans*.

 

* But if you must, adopt the Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman Rule: no kissing on the mouth   
   while drunk.

    Kissing in all other locations encouraged.

The Time I Wished I Had Been Lemon Lawed

The Time I Wished I Had Been Lemon Lawed

There is a new King in the land of NO GAME and his name is [redacted]

There is a new King in the land of NO GAME and his name is [redacted]